


The Steps

by Evilawyer



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who (TV Movie)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-11
Updated: 2009-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-16 08:39:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evilawyer/pseuds/Evilawyer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows the steps he has to follow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Steps

Put the cinnamon bark, cloves and orange peels into the basin. Ladle spring water heated in the kettle on the fire onto the spices. Take the basin to the bier and let it sit.

He's never done this himself. It's been ages since he's seen it done, and even then he only saw it once. He most likely would have watched it being it done many more times in all the ages since, might have even done it a few times himself, except that he hadn't been there.

Still, he knows the steps he has to follow, all the steps he has to complete.

Place the cloth into the spiced water. Let it soak.

Remove the clothing. Slightly difficult; there's no rigor yet but the body is uncooperatively loose and floppy. Smooth down the dark blond hair that's been mussed in the process. Remove the jewelry. Easily done; there's only a wedding ring on the left hand and a signet ring on the right.

Lift the cloth from the water. Wring it out. Unfold the cloth. Stroke it over the face, down the neck.

A low and appreciative moan rumbles in his ear. “Sexy this time around, wasn't I? You're must just hate that you missed out on grabbing yourself a piece of that,” the Master says from behind him. The Master's signet ring-adorned hand and black sleeve of his suit jacket come into his field of vision as the Master gestures to the naked body before him.

Place the cloth into the spiced water. Wring it out. Stroke it over the left shoulder, down the upper left arm and over the forearm.

“Tell me, Doctor, is this what you imagined you'd be doing right now? All year, when you were plotting my downfall, was this what you were thinking of?”

Follow the steps. Place the cloth into the spiced water. Wring it out. Lift the left hand, wipe the back of it, then the palm, then the fingers.

“When you were sitting there as silent and as entertaining as a clump of your precious earth, did you see yourself washing my body? Touching me?” The Master moves to the head of the bier and rests his hands on either side of his own head. He leans forward conspiratorially and drops his voice to lewd level. “Is it as good as you thought it would be?”

Follow the steps. The steps don't include listening.

“It's not too late, you know. I”m still good looking, and it's not like I'm going to stop you. I suppose you'll still have to be a little bit careful. Gallifrey wasn't ancient Egypt. Taking on the undertaker's job didn't give you an all access pass to the body. What would the Time Lords do if they found out you waited 'til now to finally let yourself have a little fun time with me?”

Place the cloth into the spiced water.

“Oh, but wait,” the Master says excitedly as he flings his hands up and moves to stand across the bier. “There aren't any Time Lords. We're the only two left. There's no one else.” The Master laughs cruelly. “Correction. Make that _you're_ the only one left.”

Lift the cloth out of the water. Falter in resolve to ignore figment of imagination. “Shut up.” Squeeze the cloth one-handed. “Just...shut up.” Unclench fist.

“With an attitude like that, it's a wonder why you even bother with all this,” the silver-haired Master dressed like Charles Dickens in shirtsleeves says as he gestures with his hands over the length of the laid out body. “It isn't as though you actually mourn my death.”

Wring the cloth out. “I do.” Close eyes. Stroke the cloth over the right shoulder, down the upper right arm and over the forearm.

“Is that right, Doc-tah?” The slick-haired Master laughs as he takes off his sunglasses and puts them inside the pocket of his black leather-look coat. “You never minded my dying before.”

Open eyes. Lift the right hand, wipe the back of it, then the palm. “I did.” Wipe the fingers.

“Funny. I woulda thought you'd have been okay with sharing your lives, in that case.”

Place the cloth into the water. “You didn't want to share. You wanted to take.” Wring the cloth out. “I would have helped you.”

“I wasted all my lives because of you. Every one of them, used up, and it was your fault. It was your fault that I got swallowed alive by your TARDIS, too. You've got a thing for black holes.”

Stroke the cloth over the chest, over the stomach. Wipe away the crusted blood around the bullet hole on the gut. “I reached out to you. I would have saved you. I wanted to save you.”

“I find that difficult to believe, Doctor.” The blue-eyed, bearded Master smirks as he flicks a speck of lint off of his black velvet sleeve. “Eww,” he adds as he leans over his latest body and looks at the bullet hole on the abdomen. “No, I believe that my destruction is something that you have always craved.”

“That's not so.” Dip the cloth back into the water. Wring it out.

“Flagrant, unthinking denial is a sign of an unreasonable character, Doctor.” The Master struts to the far end of the bier. “My death has never been an unwelcome event for you, although I will admit that you usually lack the fortitude to bring about my end by your own direct doing. You would much rather that forces seemingly beyond your control precipitate my demise.” The Master strips off his left glove and reaches over to dip the tip of his index finger into the basin. “This water's gone cold.”

Take the basin to the fire-heated kettle. Pour the contents onto the ground. Ladle more warm water...No. Put more spices into the basin, then ladle in water from the kettle. Take it back to the body and let it sit. The proper steps in the proper order.

“The virus on the Cheetah planet, a Tyrannosaurus Rex at the outer reaches of the universe. Countless other non-interactive methods of erasing me from existence. Your direct manipulation of the numismaton gas was, however, a bold departure from your usual passive behavior.

“I had to stop you.” Place the cloth in the water. Lift it out.

“By any means possible.”

Drop the cloth into the basin. Ignore the water that splashes out in favor of trying to convince a ghost of the mathematical truth of mere words. “But not by killing you and not by letting you die. Never that. I never wanted you dead.”

“Predictable as ever, Doctor,” the disgusting husk rotting at the foot of the bier rasps. “So sickeningly pure, so revoltingly honorable, so quick to deny the blackness within your own soul.” The Master draws in a breath; a wet, squirmy rattle slushes through his lungs. “You were content to see me entombed, condemned to a living death. You were happy to let me die in the bowels of Gallifrey. You found me the 'quintessence of evil' and judged that I deserved ignominious oblivion. You were my judge, my jury and my executioner.”

Turn head to look at the worm-eaten, decaying Master. Let the pity and sorrow and shame slip through the eyes to cross the distance, the very small distance, to the Master. “I'm sorry.”

“Dear, oh dear, Doctor, will you never learn,” the bearded, graying Master tuts as he pulls the leather glove back onto his bare hand. He tugs down on the front of his Nehru jacket to straighten it, then points to his future body. “If I thought that my forgiveness would change _this_ outcome, I would give it to you.” The Master steps back around to the other side of the bier. “I would forgive you for slighting my offers to join together and combine our talents in favor of offering me up to imprisonment by humans. I might even be persuaded to wrap my arms around you and hold you as I tell you 'I forgive you'. But we both know that there are no second chances. Not between us.”

Lift the cloth from the basin. Wring it out. Stroke it slowly down the left leg from hip to foot. “There could have been.”

“In theory, perhaps,” the Master concedes with a look of a professor's infinite weariness at a student's refusal to accept the sound logic of an imparted lesson, “but it would have changed nothing. Some things can never be forgiven.”

“No. No, that's not true. Everything can be forgiven. Everything can be taken back.” Place the cloth into the basin. Lift it out. Wring it out. “I forgave you.” Stroke the cloth slowly down the right leg from hip to foot. “I forgave you everything you'd ever done.”

“It may have escaped your attention, Doctor, but I forgave you over the years. For many things, at any rate. Possibly even most things. ” The Master moves around to stand at the head of the bier and looks down to study his latest and last face. “I certainly forgave you for the genocide of the Time Lords. You always held them dearer to your hearts than I did, anyway.”

Don't flinch. Place the cloth into the basin. Follow the steps. The proper steps.

“But betrayals, Doctor. Some betrayals can't be forgiven,” the Master says as he raises dark, sad eyes to the Doctor, “Some betrayals are...”

“...permanent,” the child in initiate's robes with the frightened, confused blue eyes finishes.

“I think I'm clean now,” the last Master says as he circles back around the Doctor. “Or did you want to keep stroking me some more?”

Set the basin aside. Lift the edges of the sheet under the body and wrap them around the body.

“Ah, ah, ah, Doctor,” the Master admonishes. “Don't forget my rings. That would be something else I couldn't forgive you for.”

Pull back the sheet. Put the rings back on the cold, stiffening fingers. Re-wrap the sheet around the corpse, leaving the face uncovered. Fasten the wrappings with leather bindings. One step more.

“Ooh, kinky,” the Master murmurs. “Breaking out the leather. You really _must_ have wanted to keep me.” The Master turns to exhale a last warm breath into the Doctor's ear. “Tell me you'll miss me.”

Kiss the cold lips that can't speak or kiss back. “I'll miss you.” Cover the face. Listen to the silence.

All the steps followed, all the steps complete.


End file.
